


What They Left Out Of The Report

by Sandboy28



Category: Kong: Skull Island (2017)
Genre: After spanking care, Extreme cuteness, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, non parental disciplinary spanking, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:42:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandboy28/pseuds/Sandboy28
Summary: James Conrad's curiosity lands himself in a spot of trouble on Skull Island. Spanking follows. Cute James, sweet Marlowe, gentle natives. One gorgeous little bottom paddled soundly!





	What They Left Out Of The Report

The natives on Skull Island were accommodating, almost to a fault. They provided the group; Conrad, Weaver, etc., with shelter, food and water. There were certain rules they agreed upon when given permission to stay. Marlowe seemed to know what they wanted through some kind of nonverbal kind of communication. Accuracy of translation was not one hundred percent but overall pretty clear.  
Only a few hours after they came, despite warnings from Marlowe to never touch anything in the temple, Conrad’s curiosity got the better of him and he tried to sneak a look at the contents of a large box under the altar. He was certain it contained information they would need to escape this hostile island alive. He had been warned by Marlowe to stay out of there but, being young and overconfident, he thought he could get away with it. It wasn’t because he disrespected the people. It was youthful bravado and foolishness. Of course he had been caught trying to pry it open. The natives had angrily walked him out of the temple and now stood glaring at the young soldier. He knew he was in for it.  
Conrad stood tall but squirmed slightly, licking his lips and trying not to look as frightened as he was at the moment. His sapphire blue eyes wide with alarm. In many cultures it was a death penalty to disrespect religious edifices and he felt properly foolish for not remembering this. He had dishonored himself. He knew there was only one thing he could do. He addressed the tribal elder.  
“I apologize, sir for breaking your rules. I knew I was doing wrong and I now place myself in your mercy. I’m ready to accept any punishment you see fit. Just please don’t harm my traveling companions.” To emphasize his regret he knelt before them, his head hanging in shame. His sincerity and contrition cut right through the language barrier. The natives’ expressions softened.  
He still held a stern look but the elder placed a hand on Conrad’s bowed head to acknowledge his forgiveness. A single tear slipped down the young man’s cheek. To die for such a foolish mistake after all he had been through! The elder turned to Marlow and waited to hear him speak.  
“Don’t be too hard on the kid sir. He didn’t mean to break the rules, didja son?” Conrad shook his head slowly.  
Weaver broke in; “What’s the punishment for what he did?”  
Her face was a mask of concern.  
Marlow looked sad as he said the one word answer: “Death.” A gasp went up from the group and Weaver shouted “NO!” Marlow held a hand up, shushing her. “Listen, there is another punishment, meant for children. I’ll see if we can talk them into that. Even as he said it, the female elder moved forward, cupping Conrad’s pale, thin face in her hand and lifting it to look into his eyes. A look of compassion spread across her face and for the very first time since Marlow had landed here, she smiled. The old woman brushed a tear from Conrad’s cheek and kissed his head tenderly. She made a gesture to the male elder and he nodded.  
Two tribesmen came up and each took an arm. They brought Conrad to his feet. The height difference was big: He at 6’2” and they at roughly 5’. It didn’t matter though because he went quietly with them to his fate. He looked back at the group as he was led away, thinking this would be the last he would ever see of them. Marlow smiled knowingly and assured the others it would be fine. Weaver wasn’t so confident. “What’s going to happen to him?”  
The two tribesmen jerked Conrad forward and led him to a shack set back and away from the rest of the huts. They opened the door and Conrad was treated to the sight of a HUGE man, obviously a tribesman, sitting on an armless chair, eating a mango. Juice sluiced from his chin to his chest. The man wasn’t fat, he was just enormous! He pitched the fruit, wiping his hands on a towel and smiled broadly and gestured the three to enter. This massive native had to be nearly seven feet tall. He was rotund and dressed in a muslin-looking shirt and pants. He had a broad, amiable face and enormous hands.  
A silent exchange between the two men and the giant ensued, and Conrad was led to the man’s side. Conrad nervously gazed around the room, not certain what was happening. He only knew he had a familiar feeling of dread. He knew this big man could easily hurt him badly. Whatever lay in store for him he was certain it would be painful. Suddenly he was picked up, under his arms and laid face down across the big man’s knees. Conrad almost laughed when he realized that he was about to be spanked. This might not be so bad after all. He was a grown man in his thirties. How bad could it be? He had taken hidings from his father as a small boy. They hurt, but were not meant to injure. The big man laid a hand on the young soldier’s upturned bottom and patted it gently. He seemed friendly enough but That hand covered Conrad’s whole bottom! He squirmed nervously.  
“If you please sir, are you going to…” His words were cut off by the first swat. It landed kind of low and made a sound like a gunshot in the small building. Conrad’s breath caught in his throat. It stung like the devil! He yelped involuntarily at the sting. His thin frame jolted and he tried to stay silent as the spanking proceeded. The blows were painful but it was very obvious that the big man was not using his full strength. The giant held one hand gently across Conrad’s thin back and administered a stinging barrage of swats to his jeans clad bottom. It wasn’t the worst spanking Conrad had ever endured but it was humiliating and he felt the blood rushing to his face and neck. With every swat Conrad felt younger and more contrite. It reduced him to the little boy he was when he was last spanked. It was a proper hiding and Conrad was shocked when tears sprang to his eyes and he heard himself cry out. “Ow!”  
The humiliation of getting a spanking in his thirties, coupled with the guilt he felt for doing such a foolish thing caused him to cry even harder. He deserved this punishment and he decided to lay obediently still and take his medicine. The huge man spanked his bottom for a good five minutes and stopped. Conrad was crying hard now, both from the pain and the embarrassment of it all. His bottom was on fire!  
The big man suddenly picked him up and crushed him to his chest, hugging him and stroking his hair and patting his back affectionately. He stood the young officer up and spun him around. Hooking a huge finger in Conrad’s pants he pulled them outward and down a bit, seeming to check the damage. Seemingly satisfied, the big man smiled down at Conrad, who hitched a sigh. The giant patted his head and grasped his hand, walking him to the door like a child. He was sent on his way with a gently pat on the bottom.  
Conrad’s walk back to the group was slow for him. He was so embarrassed he could barely look at anyone. Marlow caught him by the arm as he emerged from the underbrush and whispered: “Don’t worry kid. I didn’t tell them. I had it too when I was your age.” He smiled knowingly at Conrad who smiled faintly with gratitude. Weaver ran up to him, her face a mask of concern. “What happened? Are you alright? You look like you’ve been crying.” Marlow responded:  
“He’s alright. Come on with me, Chief and we’ll take care of it.” Marlow grabbed Conrad’s arm and they disappeared into the jungle behind the huts. “Let’s look at the damage.” Conrad turned to look at him, brows knit, and pulled away.  
“I…I don’t…”  
“Now, now. Let’s have it. I can’t help if I can’t see the damage.” Conrad blushed scarlet and turned around, taking his belt loose and lowering his jeans. He winced as the material scraped his blistered skin and Marlow inhaled sharply. The poor guy’s bottom was a dark, painful looking scarlet. “Man! He really walloped you! I’ve got just the thing!” He left briefly and came back with a small canvas pouch. It smelled of mint. Marlow, looking crazier than normal shoved the pouch in Conrad’s face. “Go ahead, take it son.” He chortled. “Here, let me put some on you.”  
Conrad sidestepped the man and smiled, holding his hand out like a shield. “That’s alright mate. I should be able to do it myself.” Marlow shrugged amiably and handed the pouch to Conrad, who smiled and uttered his thanks.  
“You should be okay in a few days. Mine was sore for over a week. Did he use the bamboo on you?” Marlow inquired.  
“No, he used his hand. That was bad enough.” Marlow chuckled and replied.  
“You got lucky. Or he felt sorry for you ‘cause you’re so skinny. That’s what it was.” Conrad shot him a look and replied slightly sarcastically.  
“Yeah. That’s it.” He reached back and rubbed at the sting which was still quite hard to ignore.  
“Well, this fucking place will take your mind off it pretty quick.”  
“That much is certain.” Conrad replied, nodding at the wisdom of it. “Shall we work on the boat?” And so they did.


End file.
